Never Forget You
by gloss my eyes
Summary: A short oneshot or a long drabble; Hiei and Kurama reunite after 3 years and a few wounds. Yaoi.


Warnings: mild sexual implications

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH :(

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"I'm surprised to find you here, fox."

The nickname, Kurama could live without. It disturbs long-buried feelings of loss and grief in his core, like beating dust from a rug. Still, it's quite nice to hear that grumpy voice again after so long. He allows himself a smile, albeit a small one, and turns to face the demon he once called his partner.

It's midday. They stand in a sunny forest clearing, the same one where Kurama betrayed Hiei's tentative trust for the very first time. Kurama is dead center, rose whip in hand (he had been meticulously training his skills when Hiei approached) while the demon's cloaked form is set lazily against a tall tree with arms crossed and lips drawn tight, refusing to return the amicable smile Kurama has given him with even the slightest twitch.

"I should say the same to you, Hiei. What brings you to Ningenkai after such a long absence?" His words are clipped and cold and leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Kurama is sick of pretending, at least where Hiei is concerned, but to show even an ounce of his misery would be a grave mistake. They are not how they once were, and Hiei would not fail to remind him of this if the opportunity presents itself.

So behind the mask of a calm, collected man, Kurama hides.

Hiei's almond-shaped eyes are sharp and dark as they probe Kurama's pale face, searching for even the tiniest of cracks in his facade.

"It's no business of yours why I'm here," Hiei grunts through clenched teeth, no doubt disappointed that he can find no tell-tale signs of a broken heart on Kurama's milky skin. He won't ever admit it, but Kurama is sure that Hiei would derive some sort of sick satisfaction from seeing the cool-headed fox come undone.

"I suppose that's true, though rather harsh considering you're the one that took the time to track me down. Unless you're willing to insult my intelligence by suggesting this meeting is mere happenstance." Kurama cringes inwardly at the obvious annoyance saturating his voice without his permission, but forces the smile on his lips to remain. "Did you need something from me, old friend?"

Hiei is much less experienced in the art of concealing if the quiet rage permeating his features is any indication. Kurama has hit a nerve, and doesn't need to wonder about which one. After all, the term 'friend' hardly does them justice. This cruel oversight is more purposeful than accidental, and they both know it.

"The only thing I need from _you_ , fox," Hiei spits venomously, posturing now with his arms at his sides and white-knuckled fists, "is the truth."

"The truth?" Kurama parrots, red eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

"I've waited long enough," Hiei replies with a curt nod. He seems self-assured, for once, and that alone is enough to make Kurama perspire. He drops his rose whip to the ground carelessly, taking small steps towards the diminutive demon. He notes with surprise that Hiei has grown increments taller since the Makai tournament that marked the last they really saw of each other.

Hiei smirks at Kurama when he's no more than a few feet away, out of sheer habit.

"What is it that you think you've been waiting for?" Kurama asks softly, nostrils flaring. It's not so much from cold anger as it is from Hiei's scent, smoldering pine, hitting him hard at their close proximity and reminding him of times when he happily drowned in that smoky aroma.

It's a small crack, but it's in the way that Kurama's jawline is set stiff that Hiei sees he's getting somewhere.

The lines of Kurama's body are tense as well, only hidden under jeans and a cream-colored knit sweater that hugs his torso deliciously. His crimson hair is longer than it ever was, cascading just below his waist and down his shoulders in a waterfall of brilliant red. Hiei silently appreciates the contour of well-defined muscle under Kurama's ningen clothing; clearly he hasn't grown soft over the years. Three years and two months, to be exact.

"A second Makai tournament is in the works," Hiei mentions offhandedly, deliberately ignoring the fox's previous question.

Kurama visibly grits his teeth, displeased.

"Yes, I believe Yusuke mentioned that during our last phone conversation. What does it matter?"

"Are you planning on participating?"

Kurama gapes at him curiously.

"I'm failing to see the connection between the tournament and the supposed truth you seek, Hiei, but if you must know, I haven't made a decision regarding my entry as of yet."

He is frustrated, voice flat and dangerous, and Kurama can see the gleam of satisfaction in his ex-partner's eyes at his own ability to push Kurama's buttons like no other.

"Doubtless your 'friend' Yomi will be there," Hiei mutters with particular disdain. The pieces of the puzzle Kurama is working in his mind snap together instantaneously, causing his youki to flare along with his rarely shown temper.

" _That's_ what this nonsense is about? _Yomi_?"

Hiei shoots a heavy glare his way, probably the only answer Kurama is going to get. From between the fox's lips slides a haggard sigh. "I refuse to have this conversation with you again, Hiei. I've told you all there is to tell."

This time it's Hiei's energy that spikes like a hot, spitting grease fire.

Black and violet whorls of it crackle around them ominously as Hiei closes the distance between their bodies, daring to place his bandaged hand on Kurama's broad shoulder and give it a hard shove; Kurama stumbles back a few steps but somehow manages to keep upright.

"It would not be wise to do that again," he hisses frostily, settling into a fighting stance nonetheless with arms raised defensively. He watches as the gears in Hiei's mind turn, begrudgingly weighing his options, before his agile body stiffens and he launches forward with his fists.

Hiei is even faster than Kurama remembers, throwing punch after punch that Kurama dodges and deflects with varying success, being quite comfortable in martial arts, until one hits him square in the jaw and knocks him flat on his ass. The coppery tang of blood floods his mouth and he scrambles along the grass away from Hiei's outstretching arm. Kurama fingers the earth beneath him, a look of pure hatred marring his countenance.

"Do not touch me again. This is your final warning."

Eyes as green and deep as the forest blaze with unadulterated anger, shooting small thrills of anticipation down Hiei's spine. He loves Kurama this way, full of life and power. He can sense the intoxicating pulse of the kitsune's youki under his boot clad feet; the grass coils wildly up his ankles to his thighs, an amusing attempt to hold him still.

His arms, however, are free, and in one fluid motion he discards his cloak and draws his sword, aiming the sharpened tip directly at the fox's beautiful throat and says: "Tell me why, Kurama."

"Why? After all you've done, you have the nerve to ask me _why_?" Kurama stands after retrieving his whip from the ground, wiping stray flecks of bright blood from his chin with the back of his hand.

He expects the fire demon to strike once more; instead Hiei stays firmly planted to the ground, small traces of hurt swirling behind twin moons of ruby red.

"All that _I've_ done, you say?" Hiei smiles, although it only serves to freeze Kurama to the bone. "And what of _your_ wrongdoings, Kurama? Tell me, did you forget about me when you chose to lie with that handicapped filth? When you disregarded everything we ever were to be his whore?"

"You left me, Hiei!" The redhead shouts, and damn if he didn't nearly choke with grief. "When I slept with Yomi, you and I were nothing! You chose _her_!"

Kurama feels his mask crumbling, his control wavering, only a feat that Hiei could accomplish in such a short amount of time.

The fox is seething, nearly foaming at the mouth in his fury, and he cracks his whip blindly; Hiei rips away from his grass prison, abandons his sword and practically does a cartwheel to avoid being struck in the face, landing gracefully on his feet a few yards away.

The whip lashes towards him again and Hiei ducks, unharmed save for a few strands of black hair blowing away in the wind. He flits forward, faster than Kurama can see, and tackles the fox to the ground. The struggle is over quickly enough; Hiei makes use of his brute strength and pins Kurama to the grass by the shoulders, straddling the kitsune's waist.

"Enough," whispers the hi youkai.

It's risky to pin him, Hiei knows, but those damned green eyes are wide and full of unfathomable pain for all to see and before he can stop himself Hiei leans down and captures quivering lips with his own.

Kurama goes stiff beneath him, ready to fight, to buck, to do anything it takes to get Hiei off of him until Hiei, damn him, rolls his hips against Kurama's and now all Kurama can think is _yes, again_. It's far too easy to demand this aloud and Hiei complies while shoving his elongated tongue past Kurama's gasping lips.

* * *

Kurama is drunk off the smell of burning pine and the feel of rough hands sliding underneath his sweater; he is high off the soft murmurs of his name and the taste of tan flesh.

He is drowning in their cries of pleasure, kept alive by the wet slapping of skin against skin and Hiei filling him again and again until he can take no more.

* * *

"I didn't choose her," Hiei mumbles into the crease of Kurama's neck. They are drained, tangled and naked together on the prickly grass of the forest floor. "You misunderstood." He presses a kiss to slick skin, greedily inhaling the sweet perfume of Kurama's flesh.

Kurama laughs, short and happy, wrapping a wiry arm around his lover's narrow waist to hold him closer.

"You're a terrible liar, Hiei. But perhaps you're right, I may have overreacted."

"Hn. Sleeping with the bastard who threatened that human woman you love so much just to get back at me is one hell of an overreaction, fox."

The tension between them is not forgotten, but for now, in the arms of one another, they are at peace.

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A/N: hello there! I'm not really sure where this short little scene came from, but I hope you enjoyed! It's meant to be read while listening to Zara Larrson's "Never Forget You," hence the title. I think it suits the mood well. Loved it? Hated it? Needs work? Please leave me a review to let me know your thoughts! Until next time!


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